PARADOXES OF AND ABOUT NICOLAE IORGA: ON THE HISTORY …epa.oszk.hu/01400/01462/00019/pdf/221-251.pdfparadoxes of and about nicolae iorga: on the history of rumanians in transylvania

PARADOXES OF AND ABOUT NICOLAE IORGA: ON THE HISTORY OF RUMANIANS IN TRANSYLVANIA

AND HUNGARY1

AMBRUS MISKOLCZY

Eötvös Loránd University, Budapest, Hungary

Rumanian thinkers are fond of paradoxes, all kinds of paradoxes. The word literally means contrary (para) opinion (doxa), or a view in opposition to expectations. Classic paradoxes are seemingly improbable and self-contradictory, but they are actually well-founded statements. According to Hungarian and Rumanian dictionaries paradoxes can be witty or even ingenious. According to the English, French and German ones a paradox can also be absurd and even inaccurate. In the words of Ferenc Pápai Páriz's Latin-Hungarian dictionary a paradox is an "unusual statement contrary to common sense [közönséges értelem ellen való ritka mondás]." This elasticity makes the paradox advantageous and sometimes disadvantageous, or even dangerous to use. Consequently depending on its use, a paradox can be either positive or negative. We can employ them in equivocal situations, when we are also full of ambiguities and react with either heated words or cynicism. The case of Nicolae Iorga is a classic and tragic example of the various uses and meanings of paradox.

Iorga was an epoch making figure. One of his disciples once observed that when turning to the past he was a historian but when turning to the future a prophet.2 In short he was an educator of his nation. The number of his publications testifies to the extraordinary dimensions of his activities. From 1890 to 1934 he published 1,003 books and booklets, 12,755 studies, 4,963 reviews, and 13,682 articles on political problems. He desired to propagate an idea of national consciousness that transcended political and ideological trends and postulated an organic and integrated nation based primarily on villages and peasants. At certain moments he could actually feel that his views were shared by the entire nation. The recurring doubt that underlay his quest for truth remains one of the most interesting and valuable aspects of his thought. His huge lifework is so complex that one can hardly speak of it without misleading oversimplification. Those who write about him, invariably become entangled in Iorga's complexities.

In 1916 Iorga passionately advocated the mystique of war. Directed by the need to affirm organic development, he treated the nation as a permanent

Hungarian Studies 11(2 (1996) 0236-6568/96/$ 5.00 © 96 Akadémiai Kiadó, Budapest

222 AMBRUS MISKOLCZY

category and virtually elevated it to heights that transcended historical development. Yet, at the same time he was fully aware of the historical relativity of nationalism. Iorga played an active part in the disintegration of the Habsburg monarchy. Later he ruefully recalled the "utility" that previous generations had derived from the former peaceful coexistence of many nationalities. A situation that after the First World War had been reshaped into an "instrument" for hatred.3 Iorga could talk of his opponents, even well-respected writers, in unmentionable terms and in the next moment warn about Balkan manners. As a youth he had been a leading apostle of political anti-Semitism, but in his later years few could rival his ability to paint touching pictures of the Rumanian scholars of Jewish origin. He opposed closing the Magyar university at Kolozsvár [Cluj] and argued, "We did not obtain Transylvania in order to close the universities others have founded but to establish our own."4 The Magyar minority cannot forget that during his ministry a number of anti-Magyar measures were passed. Yet he must also be remembered for his magnanimous gesture of returning to some Magyar schools the right to issue valid diplomas. His cult of ethnicity and ideas of the "organic" nation advanced the expansion of an autarkic nationalism in economic life. At the same time Iorga also urged international economic integration. He never stopped defending the values of European humanism, and yet the followers of nationalist orthodox mysticism consider Iorga an intellectual forerunner. Virgil Nemoianu remarked in "A Prodigious Rumanian, Nicolae Iorga" that during the age of fascism, "his disseminations began to grow into a horrible crop."5 Consequently in 1937 when Iorga protested to King Charles against the growing influence of the Iron Guard in Parliament, the ruler could not resist the opportunity to observe, "They are your sons." Iorga sarcastically shot back, "[They are] bastards ... the only ones that morals would allow."6 Thus, the Iron Guardist henchmen, who murdered Iorga on November 27, 1940, were probably not only exacting political vengeance, but in their own simple way they were also gaining revenge for his caustic remarks. One of Iorga's aphorisms is appropriate for his killers: "A madman killed the eagle in order to fly with its wings."7

To a certain degree not only Iorga's life but also his lifework fell victim to his own pithy sayings. His opponents, Magyars and Rumanians alike, often quoted him making statements such as, "What can I do with the truth when my country is in question? " or "Why should I bother about the truth when my people are at issue?"8 But his critics ignored Iorga's ars poetica. "I wish that I had more poetic talent to lead me nearer to the truth."9 By poetic talent he meant creativity, and so it is highly significant which part of his huge oeuvre is quoted.

Called by Iorga's Rumanian biographer "a national epic,"10 The History of Rumanians in Transylvania and Hungary, which appeared first in two volumes

PARADOXES OF AND ABOUT NICOLAE IORGA 223

in 1915 and was recently republished, is interesting to us for several reasons. First, Iorga may have been in earnest when he said in the preface that he would like to have the book published in Hungarian as well.

Our opponents should see for once in their own language what we think of ourselves in the context of our relationship with them, and what we believe on the basis of unshakable evidence. Then they will be able to verify our views; and when the centuries-old fatal process, which is our relationship, comes to an end, they will understand why we desired and did certain things, which were prescribed as sacred duty by our entire past and the deepest needs of our inner life. (p. 13)

This work provides a taste of Iorga's methods and his technique of forming historical opinions. It also posses questions about his reception. Here we will most especially be concerned with Iorga's evaluation of major developments in the history of Transylvania, which in the previously cited article, Ion Negoitescu rephrased as, "Transylvania ought never divide Rumanians and Magyars, but unite them."

As his preface makes clear, Iorga wrote the work in a desire to urge Rumania's entry into World War I. He wished to justify national unity and desired to highlight the links between the Rumanians living on both sides of the Carpathians. The protagonist is the people, the ethnic Rumanians, the nation, which is a living organism comparable to other nations. Some kind of "nervous energy" moves a people, and the more a people clings to its rights, the stronger it is, "for a mighty fortress is our right." (p. 20) The wishes and abilities of a people are reflected primarily by the activities of its outstanding figures. Consequently Iorga could condense the events of centuries into a few sentences. At the same time he could dazzlingly parade before us hundreds of historical figures, masterfully characterize the changing historical circumstances, and enthrallingly portray the different ways of life. As one of the greatest publishers of Rumanian historical sources, he strengthened his explanations with hundreds of citations. (At most he knew only rudimentary Hungarian and understood Hungarian history primarily in terms of analogies. But he was partly familiar with the basic published sources and did some research in Budapest.)

Today his ideology is anachronistic. But through his method of describing various modes of life and connecting individual events to long-term historical developments, Iorga produced books that sold well in Europe. Some are often still enjoyable. In his trilogy delineating France's historical identity Fernand Braudel stressed the value of Iorga's 1918 work, A History of the French People,11 while Perry Anderson esteemed Iorga for his pioneering work in depicting the conquest of Eastern Europe by nomadic peoples.12 It would


neither praise nor diminish the Rumanian historian to emphasize how much he owed to his beloved Professor Karl Lamprecht, for it is Iorga's own contributions that truly matter. If Braudel could value his skill as a writer and Anderson his keen insights, why should the modern Hungarian reader, despite Iorga's intention to discredit Hungarian history, not find ways to appreciate him as well.

The History of the Rumanians in Transylvania and Hungary was not a facile polemic or propaganda, but the first major effort by a Rumanian from the eastern side of the Carpathians to thoroughly immerse himself the realities of Rumanians in Transylvania and Hungary. This "national epic" can also be read as a confession in which the elements of objective historical reality and its subjective literary counterpart are sometimes merged through the process of their vivification; and throughout the work we can sense the tension of intense preparation for an imminent turn in history. "This book is merely blood and tears. We have paid at least a thousand years for it. Let at least our offspring awaken to better days!" (p. 13) Nevertheless we can say that his realism as a historian triumphed. When evoking the past, Iorga was able to overcome in his own peculiarly contradictory manner this ideology of "blood and tears." On the one hand he declared the Rumanians to be a "passive race" (p. 20), and on the other he attempted to demonstrate their active presence in the region. By emphasizing two important factors in Iorga's book, we will try to illustrate his approach to a common Rumanian-Hungarian past. This choice of factors is not arbitrary, for they are the two central ideas of his work. First, he concentrated on the relationship of Rumanians to Magyars. Second, Iorga stressed the unity of the Rumanian people and the interplay between the lives and efforts of the Rumanians living in various regions.

His intellectual starting point was the concept of Daco-Rumanian continuity. Alexandru Philippide, a professor of linguistics at the University of Ia§i, who during the 1920s in a monumental two volume study carefully reviewed all of the previous theories, determined that the Rumanians had occupied their present territory by the twelfth century. Calling them confused, he bitterly and aggressively criticized Iorga's views on the subject.13 Nevertheless we can say, without undo prejudice, that Iorga's theory is still so attractive, the facts pale beside it. Naturally Iorga claimed that the Roman settlements were built gradually and continuously on Thracian foundations in Dacia. The conquest of Emperor Trajan brought a long and peaceful period of development, and the evacuation of the province meant only the withdrawal of the Roman troops and administration. The urban Roman settlements gradually became rural; and while living their own independent lives in the river valleys, the eastern Latin people almost imperceptibly turned into the Rumanians. The Latin


and Byzantine elements combined to create the originality of Rumanian civilization. Iorga does not depict this evolution in any detail and instead lavishes much attention and color on the inner dynamism of social organization. The local court is the basis of self-government, and the judge, or kenéz, is the local leader. Consequently without betraying his nation's cause, Iorga could largely "sacrifice" the writings of Anonymus and argue that the Hungarian chronicler had projected the situation existing around 1200 into the past. According to Iorga, the writings attributed to Anonymus were a later compilation, "in which the contemporary geographic elements are combined with the rationalistic interpretation of the legends of the Hungarian conquest." (p. 32) lorga's main point was that "the conquerors" found a Slavic-Rumanian or Rumanian indigenous population. The final conclusion is above all crucial: the Saxon settlers borrowed from the native Rumanians the institution of the court, or szék, and even many elements of the Rumanians' nomadic and agricultural way of life. "So the 'guests' of the king were in another sense our 'guests', only we asked for less and gave more." (p. 49) This same notion of indigenous Rumanian local society organized around the szék was also the basis for lorga's theory of the Szeklers' Rumanian origins. He did not, however, consider this an unshakable fact and occasionally emphasized that it remained a subject for scholarly debate.14

A major question for the reader is how the medieval Rumanian freedom became "bondage and humiliation" (p. 169) by the dawn of the modern age. In order to illustrate the condition of this lower social stratum, Iorga cited the mid-sixteenth-century humanist Ferenc Forgách.

...since the two Wallachian countries are near, there are so many Rumanians in Transylvania that they occupy nearly two thirds of the territory. But they are so wild and degenerate that neither example nor law can civilize them.

To sum up, the Rumanians live in huts, spend the summer in the woods and groves, do not work, steal from others, and since millet does not demand as much work as wheat or grapes, they live on millet, (p. 127) lorga's use of this quotation from Forgách allows us more thoroughly to examine his handling of the sources. Even if they appeared unfavorable to his main argument, he did not abridge them. Nor did he challenge them under the guise of source criticism. Each time he was satisfied with a few short evaluative remarks. In this case he merely observed that Forgách had spoken of the Rumanians "with hatred" and fitted the quoted opinion into his own pattern of thought. He combined a sure hand and an excessive fantasy in his writings on history but never falsified the sources themselves.


In the light of his considerable knowledge, which he was constantly increasing and rearranging, he reformulated a number of questions. Approaching them from constantly changing angles, lorga seldom left questions open without noting what additional proofs would be necessary in order to verify his statements. This must have followed from his role as an educator for his nation, and from his manner of adjusting his writings to his historical mission, or to the demands of his audience and the needs of the public. Sometimes his chain of thought led to unexpected conclusions. The book under consideration also shows exactly how Iorga's greatness lay in his ability under the pressure of momentary needs to present as scholarly facts the ideas percolating in the national consciousness.

We will be better able to understand Iorga's method when we realize that trying to find a reason for the degradation of the Rumanian race would be in vain. In the recent past aggressive martyrologists of the Rumanians have identified the anti-orthodox policies of Louis the Great as the cause of the Rumanian decline. lorga on the other hand called attention to precisely the cooperation between the king and the Rumanian leadership.

The foundation of Moldavia was a result of Rumanian expansion. It did not happen contrary to the king's wishes, but was supported by him as congruent to his general military goals, (p. 69)

Through his actions against the Tatars, Louis the Great played a crucial role in the founding of the Moldavia. He was presented by lorga as pursuing an imperialist policy contrary to the interests of the Hungarian people.

Based on our perception of Hungary's policies today, we can say that these are not appropriate to the strengths and abilities of the people who support them. These efforts derive from the traditions of Louis the Great and not from those of the Árpáds or János Hunyadi, (p. 61)

Louis the Great imported feudal ideals into Hungary, while the rule of the Árpád House had been characterized by "an autocracy blended with German concepts" (p. 58) and by "an inability to develop the ancient Hungarian constitution." (p. 63)

Iorga's polemical intentions can most easily be seen from his overemphasis on the apostolic character of Hungary's kingdom. By granting him the crown, the pope bestowed on the king of Hungary a mission, namely spreading the Catholic faith. Having failed in this, Hungary proved incapable of fulfilling her mission in history. St. Stephen's toleration - lorga questioned the authenticity

PARADOXES OF AND ABOUT N1COLAE IORGA 227

of the "Admonitions" [Intelmei] because he thought them unlikely to have been written during the king's lifetime - he diagnosed as a sign of weakness, just as the active eastern policy of Louis the Great he explained as imported aggressiveness. But given the inability of Hungary and its kings to fulfill their duty, how can we explain why so many among the leading strata of the Rumanians found assimilation into the Hungarian Catholic nobility so attractive? How did the social integration that strengthened the inner coherence of the Hungarian kingdom come about? lorga's failure to deal with these problems is all the more interesting because in the age of national and bourgeois transformation they have become some of the most exciting questions. During this period the issues of assimilation, identity and loyalty came front and center in the Danubian-Carpathian region. What was the experience of the Rumanian elites who changed their religion and legal allegiances, abandoned an unofficial nobility, and rose into the ranks of an official one? How did they preserve their relations with their original local communities? Under what influence did they take such pains to guarantee so extensively the religious freedom of their underlings? Could it be that for a time we can only speak of political and not ethnic assimilation? What was the essence of ethnicity at that time? Could we be witnesses to dual loyalties? Iorga solved the complex questions by overemphasizing ethnicity, but without investigating the content of ethnic identity in the medieval historical circumstances. Instead, he understood ethnicity as a value connected to the "Volksgeist" which could only be grasped in its full meaning by those who were already initiates. Thus,

The significance of János Hunyadi for world history derives from the representative features of the Rumanian element in Hungary, as well as from his incessant influence on the Rumanian element in Wallachia and Moldavia and the unquestionable enforcement of his will. (p. 80)

And in truth, Transylvania could certainly not be defended, "if the ruler of the Danubian principalities was not a friend." In which case Hunyadi mercilessly retaliated against all unfriendly actions. lorga's characterization of Hunyadi as "the uncrowned king of his homeland" was right on the mark. At the same time and in contrast to János Hunyadi's epoch-making significance for world history, Iorga evaluated Hunyadi's role as Hungary's governor and his part in Hungarian domestic politics as quasi-local, (p. 80)

Iorga assigned only the role of a scapegoat to the crowned King Matthias Hunyadi. How was Iorga able to do this? We have arrived at one of the critical points in his approach. It would appear that precisely in his evaluation of the Hunyadis Iorga must have recognized that other points of view were also


possible. But lorga considered the opinions that differed from his in 1915 as "superficial." (p. 17) He stressed that he had long abandoned such ideas. Through his nationalist perspectives he could apprehend the deep essence of historical events. Consequently he no longer had any intention of remaining simply an external observer and describing "merely the main and most important factors in our national life." (p. 18) The external approach is

a method that does not allow us to address decisive factors of national or world history. One merely examines appearances, which can be described at length. János Hunyadi can be introduced and his career described without the author ever asking himself if Hunyadi in the majority of his actions represented Rumanian ideas, Rumanian interests, or the national goals of this people. And since King Matthias was Rumanian through his father, who felt himself Rumanian and spent much time abroad but with Rumanian virtues, we can also depict the life of Matthias. But this king in reality felt himself the son of a Hungarian mother and the leader of that people, which adopted him. Matthias became a good typical Hungarian king, whose benevolence also extended to the Rumanians because he was an exemplar of righteousness, (p. 17)

From the perspective of the nationalist approach that uncovers the essence of things, however

it was the policy of Matthias that prevented the Rumanians from developing during the period. Just as his character differed completely from that of his father, so did his policies. The old voivode János was a true Rumanian in his modest and strong character. We do not have a single authentic portrait of him. He had no coins minted. Nor did he invite literati to praise him to the heavens. He was indifferent to what people said about him. He did not maintain a court in order to provide a comfortable refuge for ambitious Italian parasites with literary and artistic ambitions. His son on the other hand loved such superficial displays of himself as the reliefs depicting him with the imperial crown, the frescos of Filippino Lippi, the panegyrics of Ranzanus that would preserve his fame for the future, the ceremonial appearances, and the hullabaloo over the achievements of his reign, which were sometimes the work of others but invariably claimed to be his alone. Consumed by envy and anxious never to have to share glory and fame, King Matthias was ready to abandon his undertakings, rather than let others participate in his glory; and he was willing to allow a plan to collapse, rather than provide money and assistance to his ally. Matthias took completely after his Magyar mother Erzsébet Szilágyi.

His political orientation was toward the West. There people recorded his acts, while in the barbarian East they were forgotten. His ambition was directed to where the scribes worked, where the chronicles were stylized, where the poets sang, where the painters painted, and where the sculptors worked. He died in Vienna after conquering the Austrian provinces and partly satisfying an imperial need,* which paralleled that of his distinguished predecessor Sigismund I. Fighting the Turks he consigned to those whom he considered his vassals. Men such as Tepes and §tefan eel Maré were left either


with no support at all, or barely enough help to insure that Matthias could undeservedly skim the cream from their military successes.

Transylvania lost its Rumanian character, which in some regions had still been quite conspicuous around 1450. Matthias recruited great men from the distinguished noble families. Although they stood close to him, they were not satisfied with him. One of the leading Germanic magnates, Sigismund, the Count of St. György and Bazin and Voivode of Transylvania, helped to lead an uprising against Matthias in 1467. The three privileged Transylvanian "nations," the Magyar, the Saxon and the Székely, united in defending by force of arms their privileges against the monarch. Although the uprising was suppressed, Transylvania returned to the domination of primarily the Saxons and the Hungarian nobility and until the death of Matthias was governed as a nearly autonomous region. He might have been benevolently righteous, as the Rumanian people often remarked, but his justice was inspired by the Bible and the example of St. Stephen and was not directed at the Rumanians as Rumanians but as subjugated poor, who deserved the mercy of their lord. (p. 88-89)

Of course Rumanian history did not end with Matthias, and Iorga could masterfully spin the yarn. "It is not possible that such a people could be denied the manifestation of their ethnic character." (p. 93) This axiom was also rooted in his organic and nationalist approach, and his transition from one epoch to another was brilliant. "What the Rumanians slowly lost as soldiers, they gradually recovered as priests, monks and men of letters." (p. 93) For during the age of the Reformation it became apparent what orthodoxy meant, and how much orthodoxy secured a certain degree of cultural unity and conscious cohesion for the Rumanians living in different lands. Iorga emphasized that the various needs for self-expression all found a home in ecclesiastical life. The Rumanian Orthodox Church was

like a lonely oak with the forest felled around it. The tree could appropriate all the nourishment that would have been available to the other plants. Thus, its branches are unusually strong and vigorous, and in normal circumstances we could not see their like on even the most beautiful tree. (p. 22)

For Iorga the shadow of this radiant tree was particularly important in the hostile political atmosphere of sixteenth- and seventeenth-century Transylvania.

Although until then in Transylvania and in the Partium the Rumanians suffered greatly - they being the defeated, the schismatics and the serfs - and although the crown itself sometimes treated them unfairly, under the pressure of its own political interest the crown defended them against the nobility and the Saxons, (p. 99)


In the independent Transylvanian principality, however, only the privileged nations dominated, and the voivode ruler served as their creature and instrument. As we shall see, Iorga was much too skillful as a historian to depict the developments only in such simplistic terms. He painted a rich cavalcade of events in which the dramatic struggles and the interaction of the political developments in the Danubian principalities unfold before us. If his work had been published in Hungarian, the Magyar public would have become much more aware of the relations between the Rumanians living on both sides of the Carpathians.

The rulers of the Danubian principalities played the decisive part in the creation of a Rumanian cultural, or religious and emotional, unity. Their feudal estates in Transylvania allowed them to support the Rumanian Orthodox Church in the region. Their physical presence in Transylvania and their involvement in the political events of Hungary after the Battle of Mohács proved to be even more important.

The fact that Rumanians living in Transylvania could see Moldavian and Wallachian standards fluttering in the wind and could witness voivodes of Rumanian blood such as Alexandru and Patrascu place a queen on the throne and thereby determine who should rule in Transylvania was obviously bound to bring about a great psychological change for the Rumanian population. Can anyone imagine the poor toilers of the soil, who know nothing, raising their heads when an army, of which they know nothing, passed by and hearing that the voivode has come on behalf of the Emperor of Constantinople [Trigrad] to restore order in Transylvania! This must have been one of the most momentous effects that came from us to influence the people of Transylvania." (p. 120)

Iorga primarily explained the lack of any policy on the part of any of these voivodes to acquire the throne of Transylvania by the geopolitical considerations that gave rise to a tacit understanding.

Thus, based on the same instinct that had always united them in common effort, the Rumanians in Moldavia and Wallachia, their respective rulers, and the Rumanian nobility in Transylvania brought to life a unity in political action. They all wanted Szapolyai.

And now the question arises: was he not the Magyar, the feudal, the enemy of the Saxons, the representative of that repression against which the Rumanians groused and rose in defiance at every opportunity in order to smash it?

Our answer is no. King János, instead, represented official Transylvania and the effort to maintain Transylvania's independence in the face of absorption into political entities based on other traditions, (p. 105-107)

Since János Szapolyai did not persecute the peasants and the nobles did not rally around him, "he could not provoke the expected spirit of rejection by the


Rumanians and the poor nobles," (p. 136) that he would have, if he had been the mere conglomeration of those negative characteristics.

The true hero of the turbulent transitions of the sixteenth century for lorga was Petru Rare§, the son of Çtefan eel Mare. Petru was the same Moldavian voivode of whom R. W. Seton-Watson - who genuinely searched for what was valuable in Rumanian history - remarked, at least in part as a rebuff to lorga,

Much may be pardoned to the desperate straits in which Peter found himself, wedged in between at least four overbearing and unscrupulous foes: but it cannot be denied that the kaleidoscopic character of his perfidy is almost unique even in the annals of the sixteenth century. It is impossible to admit that he was in any way fitted for the rôle which a modern Roumanian historian has treated as feasible - namely that of rallying the Roumanian masses under the Habsburg banner and playing them off against the Hungarian nobility, which was using the dire anarchy of the times to strengthen its feudal power. The most that can be said for him is that he genuinely aimed at Moldavian independence, as achieved by his father in happier days, and also, if it might be, an extension of his power to the two neighbouring Principalities. Of patriotism, as distinct from personal ambition and greed, there is but little trace in his story.15

In truth, lorga also observed that Petru Rare§ took revenge. We could say that he extracted satisfaction for a former slight by Pál Tomori, who as commander of Fogaras had favored the Saxons over the Rumanians. But was he unaware of the drawbacks of the Moldavian voivode's policy? In 1905 he had characterized Rares, as "a zealous and ambitious" ruler.

Peter only differed from his father in that his desire for conquest exceeded all other motivations. When he saw only poorly defended borders, or when either side in a civil war asked for his assistance, he quickly took to the field with his able Moldavian forces. On the other hand he was in no way the equal of his father as a field commander. In reality he was a tireless intriguer and eventually became entangled in his own craftily woven net. When he died, his country - largely due to his own fault - found its borders reduced, surrounded by a chain of Turkish fortifications, and the authority of the voivode of Moldavia, as that of Wallachia, at a low point.16

By 1915 lorga's need to serve Rumanian unity had pushed all other considerations into the background. The "avenger," who was "strong, brave and cunning," (p. 103) had become more significant even than Michael the Brave. lorga declared that under more favorable circumstances Rares, could have achieved much more, because, "Michael's deeds were personal and accidental." (p. 110) Even the editor of lorga's rereleased work found the verdict on Michael the Brave "too severe" and noted that it contradicted what lorga had said of Michael in the same book. (p. 118) lorga's favorable


evaluation of Petru Rares, and desparagment of Michael the Brave appears all the more strange because he had examined in rich detail Transylvania's role in the history of East-Central and Southeastern Europe at the end of the sixteenth century.

Although even today many Rumanian historians will disagree with him, lorga stressed the significance of Transylvania in the recovery of Hungary. Nevertheless lorga could not avoid quickly adding that Transylvania had only become a part of Hungary around the middle of the thirteenth century and had its own unique mission, (p. 138) We soon discover from Iorga's narrative that Transylvania's role lay much less in resistance to the Turks and much more in solidarity with the Danubian principalities. And the Fifteen Years' War provides ample opportunity to expand on this hidden essence. lorga brings to life the turmoil and tensions of the rapidly changing events by employing an undulating rhythm of long and short sentences, by binding together factual information with analysis, and by discarding chronological narration. The initiative lay with Zsigmond Báthory, who in his quest for glory and fame wished to "mobilize our nobility against the Turks" and simultaneously to subordinate it under his own authority. But then "the political errors of the Báthorys and the emperor's policy toward Transylvania allowed Michael the Brave to cross the mountains as 'the fates' had decreed." (p. 138) During the war against the Turks Zsigmond Báthory abdicated in favor of Endre Báthory, who represented the pro-Turkish faction in Transylvania. Thus, the isolated Michael the Brave, who was a true Crusader and desired above all the liberation of the Christians in the Balkans (p. 142), had no choice but to occupy Transylvania by force. It made little difference whether he wanted to continue the war against the Turks, or simply to survive the disastrous developments.

Transylvania accepted Michael the Brave. No one needs to hide this fact. It accepted him because of the emperor in whose name he spoke and whom he represented, but most of all because he was what he was." (p. 142)

In the eyes of the Rumanians of Transylvania he became a crai, SL king, a successor to the kings of old. He was also supported by the Székely, whose survival was threatened, and above all by the Catholic nobility. lorga demonstrated that while Michael the Brave desired to expand his own power, he did not ignore Transylvania's historical inheritance. Michael emphasized to the emperor that he had reunited Transylvania, which had been detached a quarter century earlier, with the lands of St. Stephen. At the same time he promised to the estates that he would respect their constitution, and to some degree he


did. On the other hand the inner logic of his military rule demanded that he strive to place his own men into positions of power.

What did he do for the Rumanians? The question is important for its historiographical dimensions as well. In the 1850s when Nicolae Bälcescu spoke of this leader, who had pointed the way to national unity, he remarked bitterly that Michael the Brave had no desire to improve the lot of the Transylvanian Rumanians, and in Wallachia the condition of the peasants worsened under his rule. This approach is ahistorical enough to be ignored by Iorga, but nevertheless it is rational enough to elicit some form of response. In keeping with his basic concepts, Iorga emphasized everything that Michael the Brave did for the orthodox church, most especially the establishment of the Rumanian Orthodox Church's institutional unity. But his fantasy truly started to take flight when Iorga described how Michael the Brave's men began to seize Transylvanian revenues.

Undoubtedly this was the beginning of the Rumanianization of an alienated Transylvania and an acknowledgement of Transylvania's Rumanian essence in all matters relating to the population, government and administration. If fate had shown its favor, all that we could see manifesting itself in the first steps of the new regime would have enjoyed a great future, (p. 146)

Invoking fate was typical of Iorga's method for solving problems. In this way he was able to suggest the historical character of Michael the Brave's reign. Nevertheless today, after the debates of the Rumanian historians of the 1930s and as result of the work of László Makkai and Gheorghe I. Brätianu, we can say that Iorga avoided the essence of the question when he ignored the role of Transylvania in the efforts to create an estates constitution in Wallachia.17 Instead he concentrated on issues of power politics and ecclesiastical life. At the same time he masterfully seized on the geopolitical aspects of the relations between the rulers of Transylvania and theDanubian principalities. Michael the Brave's inheritance, he writes, was a sense of "tradition, temptation and responsibility for Transylvania." (p. 158) The word "temptation" should be examined more closely, especially because the editor of the new edition found it necessary to observe that Iorga really meant "attempt. " Nevertheless, the word "ispitä" primarily means "temptation" in this context and elsewhere. (For example, "ispità" is the expression used for "temptation" in the Lord's Prayer.) As David Prodan has noted in his Supplex Libellus Valachorum, this "temptation" in the existing political vacuum to unite the three territories was entertained by Zsigmond Báthory's other successors and the Moldavian prince Vasile Lupu as well.18 Today, in retrospect, it appears that the basis of future progress in this relationship was the tradition of a social integration


that underlay the struggles for power. In this tradition the Transylvanian estates' constitution served as a model for strengthening constitutional efforts on the other side of the Carpathians; and Transylvania and Wallachia repeatedly allied with each other with this unspoken goal Transylvania played the same role in Wallachia's life and development as Poland in Moldavia's. Through this constant interaction the cultural morphology of the Carpathian and Danubian regions gradually evolved. The often repeated concept of a "common fate" now acquires content for the historical observer.

The reciprocal influences can best be discovered in the processes of the cultural sphere. The great revolution of the day was the Reformation and the Catholic response, or Counter Reformation. What was Iorga's attitude toward these developments? Essentially he evaluated the Reformation in Transylvania from the perspective of power politics and Rumanian national interest. If we consider that many have only observed the Transylvanian Reformation as a religious mission, we can note that Iorga's perspectives inclined him toward realism. Iorga was able to bring to light the political elements that lay in the background. At the same time his Rumanian nationalist perspectives led him to overemphasize the political dimensions. Since "at this time religion and national identity melted into one," (p. 167) he argued that the Reformation can be understood as "anti-nationalist," an effort directed against orthodoxy and Rumanian popular religion "to strip away the Rumanian national character." Iorga explained,

We are talking about a deliberate persecution of the nation, an effort to smash the moral basis of a people. All are dependent on the institutions that form the foundation of the nation, and the soul of a people stands in the way of an oppressive power. This soul must be killed. It must be decisively destroyed, (p. 171)

The triumph of Iorga's historical realism can again be recognized when we observe how he described the creative effects of the Reformation on Rumanian culture.

The Calvinist propaganda proved to be very useful. The nobles and boyars of Fogaras, and perhaps Máramaros as well, joined the new movement at the very beginning. But they forced the new regulations on the poor peasants, the very group from which they desired to distinguish themselves. Those who desired to convert the Rumanian villagers to Rumanian Calvinism believed that the nobles, who adhered to the Magyar Reformed church, would remain a part of the community and through the Hungarian ceremonies and sermons would Magyarize the Rumanian peasants. But this did not happen. The ancient vernacular was victorious everywhere, (p. 197)


Iorga's emphasis on politics also saved him from cheap martyrology. The Rumanian orthodox prelates often found themselves at odds with the rulers of Transylvania. In these conflicts a religious element was always present, but by noting how the Rumanian prelates allied themselves with the enemies of the prince, Iorga confidently also uncovered the crucial political motivations. When the ruler of Transylvania wanted to attack the voivode of Wallachia, he came down even stronger on the orthodox. Thus, the cruel vilification of Sava Brancovici during the 1680s was "a political and not a religious tragedy." (p. 190) Iorga was convinced that the fate of the Rumanian orthodox church in Transylvania was determined by developments in the relationship between Transylvania and Wallachia. The outstanding cultural achievements of the Rumanians in Transylvania at the middle of the seventeenth century were the products of an age when the good relations of Transylvania and Wallachia ensured a peaceful atmosphere and the fruitful effects of the Reformation could prevail.

Having produced no proof for the efforts at Magyarization, Iorga later conveniently forgot that he had ever even mentioned them. In 1938 he wrote,

I have been asked why I accuse sixteenth- and seventeenth-century Hungarians of using Calvinism lo denationalize the Rumanians in Transylvania. I have never said such a thing. What I actually said was that we profited from the Calvinist propaganda. Neither nation persecuted the other. At the same time .we cannot say that the Hungarians desired to civilize us. There was neither persecution nor civilizing. The historical process was something quite different.19

This process had still not been explained in a satisfactory fashion by the historical literature, but the publication of the basic sources was underway.20

Iorga masterfully introduced a significant aspect of the Reformation, one that played an important role in the onset of a new era, namely, how Calvinist propaganda by the late seventeenth century had prepared the soil for the Counter Reformation. In light of this fact we can better understand the union of the orthodox Rumanians in Transylvania and Hungary with the Roman Catholic church. Aside from the preponderance of power wielded by Vienna, the secret of this union's success lay in the absorption of the Uniate clergy into the Catholic church and in the Uniate clergy's acquisition of the privileges enjoyed by its Catholic counterparts. At the same time the Uniate clergy did not have to disturb popular religion or its practices. The Reformed religion, Iorga observed, spoke primarily to educated men; but it left their hearts cold. In contrast,

our people loved the ritual, indeed the magic of the Slavic words that they could not understand. In these expressions they discerned a secret force, and they loved the 'superstitions' that the system of the superintendents angrily persecuted, (p. 224)


Iorga found the union of the churches fruitful, but he spoke of it in terms that no Greek orthodox could ever have uttered. He described the union as "an artificial creation" (p. 226), which arose from the ambitions of some individuals and was based on hidden selfish and personal interests. Orthodoxy stood closer to his heart, but lorga did not try to diminish the far-reaching consequences of the Uni ate church's establishment. For this union made possible the political struggle of the Transylvanian Rumanians for their national and estates' rights; and after many important undertakings it also opened the way for the cultural growth, which proved to be so decisive in the fields of linguistics and history in the second half of the eighteenth century. As for the historians, Iorga tried to render their merits relative by arguing that without the Moldavian historians, there would have been no Transylvanian historiography, (p. 263) This is undoubtedly true. Nevertheless he failed to add that without the collaboration with the Hungarian historians of the age, their efforts would have stagnated at a much lower level. In his own dramatic fashion and through the rhetorical flourishes that were so pleasing to him, Iorga was able to vividly describe the struggle of Bishop Inochentie Micu-Klein against the Transylvanian estates during the 1730s and 1740s. At first the bishop enjoyed the lukewarm backing of the Viennese court, but later Vienna turned against him and forced Micu-Klein into Roman exile. When the Rumanian bishop realized that the Viennese authorities wanted to subject him to a hearing, he refused. "As soon as he realized that his nation's cause was lost, that no one in this world could help him, that his person alone was in question, he felt himself stronger than anyone else." (p. 272) Later research has shown that the exiled church leader could confidently quote from the Tripartitum, the very influential sixteenth-century compilation of Hungary's feudal laws.21

We do not wish here to emphasize the paradox of this situation: namely that a bishop fighting for Rumanian national rights and whose demands had been declared illegal could cite "Hungarian law" and draw strength from it. This element certainly fit well into Iorga's concept of Hungary. He was too great a scholar to label Hungary a historical anachronism. Iorga honored everything that had a long history. He respected organic historical development and disdained all that he considered inorganic and improvised, such as the importation of foreign ideologies. Thus, Iorga found the French Enlightenment and its followers to be literally repulsive. Therefore, somewhat in rebuke of his contemporaries, in the second volume of his work Iorga made the following observation on the Hungarian "milieu."


All those lords who think that it is enough to make some priest a bishop, so that they can then together influence the history of the Rumanians living in Hungary, know nothing. It is enough to attend ten lectures on Hungarian public law; and since all educated people have studied this law, they decide all matters as the people of the eighteenth century. That is an ancient country, they do not judge matters there as we do here, where we determine things based on contemporary life, the abstract theories of French philosophy, or from Roman law. (p. 322)

The significance of the Rumanian Uniate church lay precisely in the fact that after the Rumanians signed a treaty with the leaders of the empire, they obtained privileges. "Thus we became a nation recognized by the realm" (p. 226), in other words the Rumanians could be integrated.

Thus lorga considered the integration of nations into a community as positive. Yet, when he selected the Horea uprising as a milestone, lorga emphasized disintegration. This was also appropriate to his political goals and beliefs. In Iorga's analysis of events the conflict between politics and learning appears repeatedly.

For lorga the Horea uprising meant the liberation of popular energies. "We were a passive race," he wrote, "until the Horea uprising, which was the first one with national characteristics. All of the others had only social ones." (p. 20) But with this argument lorga was not content merely to justify the long-term significance of the uprising, he also applied historical analogies.

The story of the Rumanians in Transylvania from 1784 to our own day is composed of modern and contemporary historical chapters, indeed more of the latter than the former. If contemporary French history starts in 1789, and if Lamprecht believes that the first part of the German nation's life begins with the age of Goethe and Schiller, I do not understand why for me, for our entire nation - not just the principalities - the contemporary age would not start with the period form 1784 to 1790. (p, 15)

The politician applauded national unity and searched in the unfolding of events for the epoch-making turning point, while the scholarly historian thought in terms of long range developments; and the scholarly historian also evaluated differently the co-mingling of the national and social characteristics. He saw the beginning of the new era in the need for radical transformation. For the boyars in the principalities

became convinced during the 1770s and 1780s that the old forms must be abandoned and new ones found. Without these we cannot live. They only vaguely adumbrated these new forms, which would have to be made more concrete in the future. Nevertheless we can clearly stale that our contemporary history begins here during the second half of the eighteenth century, (p. 16)


The intellectuals, who were viewed by public opinion in the principalities during the 1830s and 1840s as having founded the modern concept of nationality, now stepped on the stage. The current that began between 1774 and 1784 "culminates in our own day." (p. 17) The main tendency was the gradual conjunction and binding together of the national and the social aspirations through the process of great historical events. But in 1784 this did not yet happen. Iorga himself explained this best, even when he stated the opposite.

But at that time, around 1780, it would have been natural if these youths, the new 'philosophes,' had stood at the lead of the movement to liberate the Rumanian people, a process that in both social and national respects Horea's peasants had to begin anew. In the West it happened thus, and the philosophes led the revolution. They developed an ideology, which was appropriated by the socially dissatisfied elements, and thus established a connection between the leading intellectuals and the least of the sansculotte, who spiked his bayonet with a piece of bread and set out for the frontier, or who cheered as a bloodthirsty slut with fiery eyes when the guillotine fell. It should have been this way in Transylvania all the way from the orthodox doctor Molnár, or the united Clain, or Sincai and Maior down to the last peasant. The peasant, who with flames of hope in his heart, set the palaces of injustice on fire in order to burn the documents with their magical connections to his bondage. Bui it did not happen this way. (p. 310)

Referring to the fact that §incai died at Szinnye, where he worked as a private tutor on the estate of the Wass family, while Clain and Maior died in Buda, where they had been able to publish their works, Iorga continued,

The literate men had to die abroad in their workrooms or deaneries. The peasants after setting fires, hilling, smashing and killing had no idea what else to do. So they waited for others to beat and kill them.

We must search for this lack of contact in the isolation of the intellectual elite, which unfortunately was characteristic of Ihe Transylvanian cultural movement. Far from the free Rumanians here, far from their own enserfed peasants, the intellectuals, paying dearly for their sinful upbringing, lived and died. Not even in their learned writings did they attempt in any understandable terms to draw near to the simple and good souls of the people, (p. 310)

Iorga attributed the great gulf that separated the intellectuals from the common people to the extraordinarily high level of schooling the Enlightenment had made possible in Transylvania. The same development that had given birth to the epoch-making works in philology and history had also separated the educated elite from the unlearned and impoverished masses. Perhaps sensing that his verdict had been too harsh, Iorga immediately corrected himself.


The strength of a people lies solely in their national relationship, which is so strong, that no one knows how it was formed; and no one knows how to tear apart the bonds of language and blood, which unite a whole community as one. (p. 310)

Despite his tough condemnation of the eighteenth-century intellectuals lorga used the very same axiom on national identity to exonerate the identical men of letters in the next volume. The instinct for national unity, the impulse to belong to a community, was elevated to a plane where it penetrated everything. There it also appeared useful for the condemnation of those who did not behave appropriately. At the same time these deviant intellectuals were still considered by lorga to be the instruments for the conveyance of an ideology necessary for popular and national unity. After describing the social condition of the various groups, lorga still emphasized the aboriginal unity of the Rumanians in Transylvania. "It could not be said of the Rumanian people living in Transylvania that around 1780 they were separated into clearly distinct social classes." He attempted to stress this fact by pointing to his own times.

Since the members of the elite are constantly recruited from the ranks of the peasants, such clearly distinct classes seem in a sense to be missing even today. Our contemporary social classes appear to be entirely new; and these social classes lack the firm foundations their counterparts have elsewhere: distinct boundaries and clear-cut legal status. And still today the social class that in an absolute sense excessively dominates the situation there [in Transylvania] through its size and values, even if it lacks a constant presence in political life, is entirely peasant. Naturally this was even more true in 1780. (p. 319)

By emphasizing or de-emphasizing the relevant motifs and employing the bold juxtaposition of images, Iorga's various passages established or dissolved the desirable popular and national harmony. The vivid life nestled in the sources emerged from the eloquence of his depictions. Based on his work on the sources in the Hungarian National Archives, lorga admitted that he did not want to disclose every fact concerning eighteenth-century Transylvanian life because,

some of them are indecent. Life in those days was so harsh that it lacked not only religious belief but also the signs of human decency. Thus not everything can be published, and some sources can only be used cautiously. The bitter struggle between the orthodox and Uniate clergy is revealed by the documents. They stole churches from each other, and then, considering the newly captured buildings impure, they consecrated them anew. The relations of the pastors and the people were not particularly decent and reveal little obedience in spiritual matters. This or that priest, or his wife, were regularly

240 AMBRUS M1SKOLCZY

accused of frolicking with the local garrison. Lacking theological training, neither the orthodox nor the Uniate clergy understood clearly the differences separating them. (p. 323)

Iorga's words expose a bitter honesty, but the author seemed incapable of overcoming his prejudices in favor of the orthodox. His heart moved him toward orthodoxy and against the "wealthy milieu" of Balázsfalva. Even if, as he himself admitted, the learned culture of Rumanians in Transylvania owed its existence to "the Rome on the banks of the Küküllő River," Iorga still stressed the superiority of the orthodox clergy.

Our orthodox clergy has a great advantage. It has developed and lived among the common people. This clergy is interested in everything that concerns the laity. Due to their large families, they are much more suitable to their mission than the Catholic priesthood, (p. 324)

The people for Iorga constituted an idea and an ideal. But even as a concept he did not idealize the people in their physical manifestation. Without regard to the "meaning" that he as a representative of the ideals of his community ascribed to them, Iorga described the developments and events in their historical context. The animation and fusion of objective and subjective reality is nicely illustrated by Iorga's depiction and analysis of the Horea uprising. Iorga's methodology for bringing the past to life helps to explain how the character of the Horea movement was explained very differently during his concrete delineation of events from the way it was presented in the introduction, where Iorga was concerned with the goal and meaning of his work as a whole.

For example, after discussing several times in the introduction why the Horea uprising meant the beginning of a new era, and what the fusion of the national and social characteristics indicated, Iorga observed,

In the process of researching the circumstances of the 1784 rebellion many have made the mistake of overly simplifying the history of events ... and seeing in this phenomenon a social rebellion characterized by class consciousness and some type of national awareness arising from the social sensibilities, (p. 330)

In contrast Iorga took as his starting point the mechanisms of Transyl-vanian life embedded in the structures of the Habsburg Empire, as well as from the external determinants and internal logic of the actions of individuals, social strata and groups. After describing the mode of simplification, he turned to the complexity of the questions.


Naturally it is easy to present things in a simplistic fashion, but the causes of historical events are usually far more complicated and the developments far more chaotic and vague than anyone would believe. There was some kind of social and national movement, but not only that.

Another fault in the evaluation of the Horea uprising has been committed in connection with the characteristic political orientation of the Rumanians living beyond the mountains, an orientation that is also symptomatic of political thought today. The Rumanians beyond the mountains have always been loyal to the emperor, or more intimately 'the dear emperor.'

In light of this undivided adoration for and confidence in the emperor, who was somehow a continuation of the ancient Roman emperors, the Caesars of legend, the fascinating and tragic history of Horea and his fellow rebels is the following:

Once upon a time there was a good emperor and some evil Magyars. And this good emperor - just as all the emperors who have lived and will live - this emperor was prepared to grant to the Rumanians the greatest political concessions. Alas, the Magyars were wicked. One might ask if the good emperor was created for the bad Magyars, or vice versa. I think it is a little bit of both. What would the bad Magyars do without a good emperor? There would be a revolution. What would the good emperor do if there were no wicked Magyars. Would there be national justice? And since there is no revolution and no national justice, we have to conclude that the bad Magyars were just as much created for the good emperor as the good emperor was for the bad Magyars, (p. 330)

In this way Iorga seized the opportunity to ridicule the thought of his contemporary Rumanians in Transylvania and discredit their desire to create Rumanian national unity or autonomy within the context of the Austrian Empire. He used concepts unknown in eighteenth-century Rumanian popular thought, but the road he designated for scholarly investigation is historiog-raphically significant. Of course contemporaries during the eighteenth century spoke of the people's loyalty to the good emperor, of the belief that the emperor would be good to his people, reduce their obligations to the landlords, and free them from serfdom. Unfortunately the lords stopped him. Rising above superficial appearances, Iorga was able to show the intricacies of the historical multi-polar system; and while taking into consideration the political factors that limited action, he competently described the field of operations. But as we have already noted, he also wove his political considerations into the fabric of the events. Therefore he did not dwell on the myth of the good emperor, which was essentially a problem of legitimacy. If he had, then Iorga would have been obliged to consider in greater detail the possibilities for legitimacy open to the Rumanians in Transylvania and the justification for their pro-imperial loyalty. A discussion Iorga did not consider advisable at that time. (Even in the present work he noted that it was not appropriate to confuse the role of the journalist, who arouses the passions, with that of the politician,


who rules over them. (p. 506) In the course of his analysis, however, he explained unambiguously and unemotionally the significance of the legitimate character of the various efforts. This approach meshed well with his political goals, and allowed Iorga to question the right of the Habsburg Empire to exist. He determined from the events of history that the empire lacked sufficient reason for its existence but at the same time warned against underestimating the enemy.

There are those who believe that Vienna is not very smart today, or was not smart in the past. Vienna was always very smart. It has always had enough intelligence to govern the less intelligent peoples, or those who would not use their intelligence. Vienna is very smart! (p. 331)

Thus, having testified on behalf of Vienna's cleverness, Iorga picked up steam in stridently attacking the legend that the emperor was the rightful judge of nations, or particularly well-meaning toward the poor. We should hardly be surprised that Iorga concentrated this assault on the period Joseph IPs rule. The Danubian monarchy could not be compared to the French. The latter was legitimated by French culture and created a framework that could later be adopted by the French people. In contrast the Danubian monarchy followed a policy of eastern expansion toward, and eventually over, the Danubian principalities. If Iorga had considered the eastern expansion of the Habsburg monarchy at the end of the seventeenth century, would he have been able to question the benefits of expelling the Turks from Hungary? Was Transylvania and the situation of the Transylvanian Rumanians not improved by the long period of peace and the reform policies of Enlightened Absolutism? In contrast the Danubian principalities under the phanariot system and the constant Russo-Turkish wars lived in a very different Balkan atmosphere. Iorga carefully avoided making a more thorough comparison. (The alternative that Transylvania might have chosen between the two empires was not considered realistic. It was but an afterthought, a warning to take realities into account.) Iorga set out from the internal workings of the Habsburg Empire and moved toward his preconceived conclusions.

The Danubian monarchy is a dynastic stale. The method of governance is 'Austrian' and so is the mode of existence. The Austrian system essentially attempts to derive the maximum benefit from the least effort. If possible, it will utilize others for its advantage. This is the pattern of Austrian politics, (p. 335)


In this case Iorga virtually idealized the Hungarian nobility, the opponent of the Austrian state, because

even though the Magyars were a minority, they were nobles conscious of exercising their power for centuries. Would the Saxon trader, the poor Székely frontier guard, or the Rumanian bishop have the courage to assert himself as an equal and in opposition to the Hungarian nobles at the diet? No. Here lies the significance of ancestry. Each man with a tradition knows that he will be followed by others. Here lies the significance of that heritage bestowed by a nation or class on its heirs. An individual is determined by his past and the opportunities the future offers, (p. 335)

The purpose of the Rumanians in the Habsburg realm was to keep these Magyars in check. Austria was a community based not on common sentiments but on common interests. The imperial elite, for understandable reasons, did not like the Magyars, at least in part because "it was not possible to draw a frontier between the Magyars in Hungary and Transylvania." (p. 335) The Rumanians on the other hand, "are the most numerous, the most oppressed, and the most uneducated. With great probability any sort of future could be denied to them." (p. 336) Most especially the Rumanians could be deprived of any destiny pointing toward a national future and threatening to the empire as a whole. As a result the Rumanians could be useful against the Magyars. Starting out with Horea, Iorga quickly reached his own times when he noted,

others had the power to rise against the Magyars. They did and defeated them! What could the emperor have done then? Unless forced to do so, he would never have stepped in to defeat with his own hands the foreign and domestic enemy. Even then things did not always go well for him. This policy is being repeated today, and it will be the same in the future - if we see another Joseph II, who clobbers the Magyars with a Wlach hammer, (p. 336)

In the end Iorga was called to deny any loyalty toward the monarchy, and he evaluated Austrian policy with the following words,

We have clearly profited by it. But now we have other tasks, and it would be a misreading of history, if anyone desired us to show everyone our appreciation. Now we ourselves must act and for ourselves alone, (p. 337)

The significance of the Horea uprising was not diminished because the movement arose as a consequence of the effort to reorganize and expand the Habsburg Empire. "Joseph II was the cause," (p. 338) but not because he gave an audience to Horea. His entire policy and regime of harsh exploitation coupled with the promise of a way out of the difficulties proved to be


instrumental for the rebellion. Iorga did not turn 1784 into a general peasant uprising. "We are not dealing with a general Rumanian movement." (p. 345) As he repeatedly stressed,

the movement did not originate with the entire Rumanian population of Transylvania. It did not start with those who were the most exploited and impoverished but arose precisely among those who enjoyed a level of economic autonomy and could entertain political ambitions ... (p. 344)

Because, Iorga noted, one can do what one wants with the unfortunate but not with the embittered. As a result the uprising began on the crown lands in the Carpathian Mountains. "It arose within the privileged flock of the emperor." (p. 339) The network of military outposts scattered throughout Transylvania provided the opportunity to try to change fate. The Rumanians from the hinterlands were animated by the idea that if they volunteered for military service, they would be freed, because the emperor wished it so. Despite the unique situation, the developments in Transylvania fit into the general pattern of peasant movements.

A constantly oppressed lower class, which does not for a moment believe that without some command from above it can alleviate the cause of its sufferings, cannot be moved to action unless it receives a command, issued by one ruling group against another, directing it to rise. (p. 345)

Horea received no such command, but he appealed to the directive of the emperor, and that was enough. The spread of the rebellion was then made possible by the organization of the government in Transylvania. The military and civil authorities lived separately, and their interests often crisscrossed and contradicted each other.

Being cognizant of the general tendencies of peasant uprisings, again saved Iorga from overemphasizing the manifestations of anti-Hungarian and anti-noble attitudes among the rebels.

Much more than their bourgeois counterparts, peasant movements are ambiguous. They arise from books and are transmitted to the village folk through various intermediaries. Thus, it terms of ideology these movements are very chaotic and contain much more shouting than words. Since we can usually only distinguish in this shouting the sounds of suffering and hopelessness, and only with a very fine ear can we obtain any sense of concepts, plans or goals, we usually read into these movements only our own ideologies or the ideas that move us. (p. 343)


Iorga did not try to analyze this peasant mentality. (Over a half century later David Prodan did; and he described the events painstakingly, virtually from minute to minute. His method of trying to make the sources speak can perhaps best be summed up in his dedication to László Makkai, where he observed that his two volume study was "a history that spoke for itself.")

In explaining the specific events of 1784, Iorga did not attempt to deduce general historical lessons or laws. Instead of metahistorical analysis Iorga turned his attention ever more to determining the practical political lessons to be learned from the events and to offering political advice for his own contemporaries. When he ended his discussion of the Horea uprising and observed, "... how sad that in this world no one pays attention to the truth until it screams, and no one does justice until the truth strikes back ...," (p. 348) Iorga was signaling that he was about to change his analytical approach. The strident historian struggling for the national cause was gradually giving way to the embattled politician. This new tone increases the value of Iorga's work as a window for understanding the thought of his own age and does not detract from the value of his observations. Our reading of Iorga is further enhanced because, while the nationalistic communists only wished to homogenize this period of Rumanian history, Iorga drew attention to the complexity and variety of the events and developments. We no longer find any trace of the fraudulent devotion and nationalistic artifice through which he analyzed the significance of the Hunyadi. Beginning with the end of the eighteenth century he assessed matters as a practical politician. His central value was an instinctual forging together of service to the people, the practical work of building a nation, and political expediency. In the name of this nationalist purpose he condemned not only those Rumanian aspirations that aimed at some degree of dual loyalties, such as those toward both the fatherland and the nation, but also all those who differed from his program and, even more important, diverged from the public posture that he considered desirable. In truth, no one lived up to his expectations, save perhaps the Magyars. Nevertheless, "the antagonism between all Magyars and all Rumanians is inextinguishable for all times," (p. 427) and, "it is their misfortune that they can only serve their national interests by breaking the law." (p. 525) On the other hand the Magyars served up all kinds of examples for Iorga. Naturally he emphasized Petőfi's and Kossuth's Slovak ancestry, only to depict in the most vivid colors the so-called furor hungaricus.

Except perhaps for a few songs of Andrei Mureganu reflecting national energies, the Transylvanian Rumanians unfortunately did not have any literature comparable to that of Vörösmarty and Petöffy [sic]. From this Romantic literature, old and new, which was


characterized by passionate imagination, spur to action, rash boldness, as well as patriotism and nationalism, the movement of 1848 sprang to life for the Magyars. Those who sacrificed their lives in the cause of Hungary's independence grew up with these ideals and were educated by this poetry. Their effort lo organize a state was also logical to a certain extent. The classical school, which was not so classical, and the Romantic school, but most especially the political school contributed to the formation of the Magyar national public spirit and instigated the whole society. The well-worn pages of the conventional historical essays cannot account for the vehement enthusiasm engulfing the Magyars in 1848 and 1849. Nor can they inform us why even in defeat - while some victories are sterile - the Magyar movement bore fruit. The decisive result for a movement is not to be confused with its accomplishments at any particular stage but resides in the moral capital wilh which it infuses the life of a nation and its significant actions. This moral capital is not lost but represents perpetual wealth. Just read the novels of Jókai. He wrote them after 1848, yet they still convincingly capture the spirit of those days. (p. 480)

Apparently the honest wonder led lorga to forget what he had earlier written.

To our own day the Magyar has remained feudal and cannot escape from the attendant mentality. Some have remained serfs, while others landlords with whips in their hands, (p. 334)

As long as he saw the passion in Magyar nationalism as a model, lorga rejected the Magyar forms of political behavior. True, he never examined these forms in any particularly nuanced way. As for the Rumanian politicians in Transylvania during his own day, such as luliu Maniu among others, lorga condemned them for assuming something of the gentry's political world, despite "their all out struggle against it." (p. 512) Here we can already note one of the tensions between the Rumanians in Transylvania and the politicians of the Trans-Carpathian oligarchy. We know that Maniu's "fundamentally democratic attitude," as Vlad Georgescu - who saw things from a Trans-Carpathian perspective22 - has noted, did not sit well with the elite in the Danubian principalities. Yet Iorga's integrative nationalism also could not overcome the conflicts of the days to come. But at that time lorga could not have known what the future would bring. For the time being he saw the main task as educating the nation.

We conclude our work convinced that we are still at the beginning of our pedagogical task to develop the national strengths of the Rumanian people. In the absence of unexpected and providential changes we can expect nothing good and certain that would make possible the rapid promotion of normal national development, except after our pedagogical labors have born fruit, (p. 513)


We could hardly propose to determine precisely how much lorga's study did for the education of his nation. His audience - the two volumes were based on his university lectures - certainly lapped up his words. In his autobiography Iorga noted that the queen once came to his lectures, but we cannot know more because the incident was deleted from the 1976 edition,23 and the earlier edition has been unavailable to us. Nor do the ritual formalities of the postscript allow us learn anything more about the popular and professional reception of the two volumes.

Much of lorga's oeuvre still remains undiscovered. Consequently we cannot know why he chose the paradox as one of his main modes of expression. The rich treasury of the paradox, however, has provoked a variety of ways for interpreting lorga's lifework. Some have attacked him with uncontrolled passion, while others have eulogized him, but many have turned away from him in silence. During the post-World War I crisis of identity neither those searching for transcendence nor the rationalists seeking objectivity could find in lorga's oeuvre the keystone. Mircea Eliade in 1927 began a series of articles entitled "Reading Iorga" and suggested that an institute be established for the study of lorga's writings. Then slowly it began to dawn on Eliade that the master's genius was disorganized. He started to note that Iorga no longer kept abreast of the latest historical research and that his knowledge of philosophy was superficial. When all this was taken as criticism, Eliade abandoned the study.24. At about the same time Eugen Lovinescu also suddenly discovered that "lorga's impressionism is in reality an impatient fanaticism."25 During the second half of the 1930s a new and strident generation of historians entered the stage. One of its leaders, Constantin C. Giurescu, put together a list of lorga's factual errors and interpretive excesses. The collection would fill several small monographs.

For reasons of nationalism the Magyar historians could not ignore Iorga. The young Gyula Miskolczy first published a brief critical review of lorga's synthesis on Hungarian history and concluded that the Rumanian had allowed his political theories to overwhelm his insights and research.26 (Obviously the leading historians at that time shuttled such potentially sensitive tasks off to their junior colleagues.) Nor did Lajos Tamás and Iorga open a fruitful dialogue on the pages of a French language Budapest periodical with their exchange of articles on the unity of the Rumanian people and culture.27 The debate eventually became rude, and Iorga wrote to the editor that an effort to disturb the peace between the two nations lay behind the dispute over continuity.28 Later in 1936 Sándor Domanovszky replied to one of lorga's accusations against him by publishing a thick pamphlet-like work detailing lorga's errors on Hungarian history and the Rumanian's


anti-Magyar utterances.29 The debate then continued with strict avoidance of any mention of each other's merits. For example, Sándor Domanovszky borrowed from the Budapest University Library one of Iorga's most successful and irenical works30 - a book detailing the common characteristics of Southeast Europe's development and modes of life, a book written precisely against the Balkan conflicts and in the interest of conciliation, and a book in which Iorga considerably toned down his passionate nationalism - but the Hungarian never once mentioned the work in his debate with Iorga. Instead, Domanovszky selected from the rich material provided by the French and German editions of The History of the Rumanians in Transylvania and Hungary. He needed the anti-Magyar nationalist Iorga.

The informative work by the Hungarian contemporaries of the Rumanian "New School" has been far more fruitful for evaluating Iorga. Along with their nationalist and professional perspectives they undoubtedly felt a sense of solidarity with their youthful Rumanian counterparts and endeavored to evaluate Iorga by taking into account both his strengths and weaknesses.31 In tw3 splendid works, one in French and one in Hungarian, László Gáldi was able to document a solidarity and respect by Hungarian historians that extended beyond professional debates. True, Gáldi's Hungarian article was more critical, while his discussion in French was more appreciative of Iorga's skills. Nevertheless Gáldi was moved to take up his pen by a genuine shock and led by honest anger. He began his article on Iorga with the following words:

When his murderers tossed his well-groomed, bearded, robust, and bullet-riddled body into the muddy roadside ditch, they surely never considered that they had dispatched not only one of the Iron Guard's most determined and uncompromising enemies but also simultaneously brought to an end a fading era in Rumanian history. Because today as we gaze upon his vanishing figure besmirched by a dishonorable death, we clearly feel that Iorga was more than merely a historian, poet, orator, writer or politician. Together with his virtues and vices, his abilities and shortcomings, Iorga embodied an entire era. He was the most conspicuous representative of an intellectual world that modern Rumanian political perspectives have virtually condemned to death.32

Gáldi, who naturally discussed the interplay of light and darkness in Iorga's oeuvre through his own refined literary sensibilities, closed his essay by noting, "surely there wiU be bullets for his murderers."33 The critical voice of the Hungarian article s more restrained in the French essay. Nevertheless Gáldi mentioned Domanovszky's work as the first "scholarly criticism" of Iorga and emphasized that Iorgu's "scholarly propaganda" had run its course and


exhausted its credibility even in the eyes of his own contemporaries. In the French Gáldi did not end by promising a bullet for Iorga's murders.

[Iorga] lo the end lived in the comfort of an ideology that twenty-two years ago gave birth to Greater Rumania. Since this edifice was built on sand and surrounded by enemies, a part of it has collapsed, and the ruins have buried his robust bearded figure, which we can say served as the symbol for an entire age.34

The deeply humane message of this essay was understood and appreciated in Rumania. One of Iorga's students Gheorghe I. Brätianu, who belonged to the "New School" but remained loyal to his master, and who was himself beaten to death while imprisoned in 1950, wrote,

I have been blessed lo see the day when I could read an article appreciating his work and honoring his memory in the periodical of our enemies {Nouvelle Revue de Hongrie, January 1941), at a time when not a single Rumanian publication would have dared to mention his memory.35

Brätianu mentioned Gáldi's article specifically because he concentrated on the Iorga who had struggled for nationalist ideals, but he also emphasized that the day had not yet arrived when a more thorough evaluation of Iorga would be possible. Then "we will see what he meant for the dynamic life of our nation."36 It is hardly an accident that even in our own day we have no monograph worthy of Iorga's lifework.

Between 1941 and 1947 a number of excellent essays recalled the writer, the medievalist, the moralist, the Byzantinist, and above all the martyr. Then came the period of deliberate silence. During the 1960s we witnessed the joy of his rediscovery. The more comprehensive scholarly evaluation has become dependent on the publication of the massive source materials.37 At the same time we are now better able to evaluate his place in early twentieth-century Rumanian historiography,38 and several elements of his oeuvre have been compared, as the products of a victorious nationalism, to the methods of other outstanding East European historians.39 In order to see better how the writing of history became politics,40 we think that the comparative method has the best prospects for future research on Iorga. We, Hungarians and Rumanians alike, hope that the time when we felt compelled to slander each other's past is over. We also hope that in our investigations Iorga will no longer be a caricature of, or a prophet for, anti-Magyar feelings, but an important personage of the period, which has aptly been called 'modern Europe's Thirty Years' War,' and that through his lifework all of us can better understand the


relationship of politics and scholarship.41 Thus, the new edition of The History of the Rumanians in Transylvania and Hungary will be most profitable.

Notes

1. Nicolae Iorga, Istoria românilor din Ardeal i Ungaria [History of Romanians in Transylvania and Hungary] (Bucureşti: Editura ştiinţifică şi enciclopedica, 1989). Originally published in 1915. This article appeared originally in Tiszatáj (1991): no. 2, 48-68. It was translated into English by Zinner Tiborné

2. Emile Turdeanu, "L'oeuvre de Nicolas Iorga," Revue des études roumaines (1965): 22. 3. Nicolae lorga, Contra duşmăniei dintre naţii. Romani şi Unguri (Bucureşti, 1932), 30. Repub

lished in a bilingual Hungarian and Rumanian version as A nemzetek közötti gyűlölködés ellen. Contra duşmăniei dintre na(ii. Translated by Andor Horváth. Preface by László Makkai and Ambrus Miskolczy. Encyclopaedia Transylvanica Series (Budapest, 1992).

4. Ion Negoiţescu, "Unirea de la 1918 - văzută astăzi," Dialog (1988); and în cunoştinţă de cauză (Cluj, 1990): 90.

5. Virgil Nemoianu, "Un prodigios român -Nicolae lorga," Agora (1987): no. 1, 211. 6. Cited from I orga's notes for his memoirs by Valeriu Râpeanu on page XXI in the preface to

Nicolae Iorga, O viaţa de om aşa cum a fost (Bucureşti, 1976). 7. Nicolae Iorga, Cugetări (Bucureşti, 1972) 90. 8. László Gáldi, "Iorga," Magyar Szemle (1941): no. 1, 46; and Constantin C. Giurescu, Pentru

"vechea şcoală" de istorie (Bucureşti, 1937): 49. 9. Nicolae Iorga, Generalităţi cu privire la studiile istorice (Bucureşti, 1944), 348.

10. Barbu Theodorescu, Nicolae Iorga (Bucureşti, 1968): 262. 11. Fernand Braudel, L'identité de la France: Espace et Histoire (Paris, 1986), 10. 12. Perry Anderson, Passages from Antiquity to Feudalism (London, 1978), 223. 13. Alexandru Philippide, Originea Romtnilor, vol. 1, (Iaşi, 1925), 781-804. 14. Zoltán I. Tóth, Iorga Miklós és a székelyek román származásának tana (Kolozsvár, 1941); and

Nicolae lorga, Considerajü noi asupra rostului Secuilor (Bucureşti, 1939). 15. R. W. Seton-Watson, A History of the Roumanians (Cambridge, 1934), 58-59. 16. Nicolae Jorga, Geschichte des Rumänischen Volkes im Rahmen seiner Staatsbildungen (Gotha,

1905), 372. 17. Ambrus Miskolczy, "A történelmi szolidaritás forrásvidékén" [The Historical Solidarity in the

Realm of the Sources] Új Erdélyi Múzeum (1990): nos. 1-2; Eszmék és téveszmék: Kritikai esszék a román múlt és jelen vitás kérdéseit tárgyaló könyvekről [Thoughts and Fallacies: Critical Essays on the Literature of the Controversial Issues on the Rumanian Past and Present], (Budapest, 1994), 57-75.

18. David Prodan, Supplex Libellus Valachorum (Bucureşti, 1967), 85. 19. Nicolae Iorga, Lupta ştiinţifică împotriva dreptului românesc (Bucureşti, 1938), 18. 20. Ambrus Miskolczy, '"A reformáció jegyében'? Az 1648-i gyulafehérvári román Újszövetség

másodkiadásáról" ['In the Spirit of the Reformation'? On the Republication of the 1648 Rumanian Language New Testament of Alba lulia] Tiszatáj (1992), no. 1, 63-74; see also in the previously cited Eszmék és téveszmék, 76-97.


2LZenovie Pâclişanu, Corespondenţa din exil a episcopului Inochentie Micu-Klein (Bucureşti, 1924); see also Ambrus Miskolczy, "Egy görög katolikus püspök római száműzetése" [The Roman Exile of a Greek Catholic Bishop], in Eszmék és téveszmék, 98-115.

22. Vlad Georgescu, Istoria Românilor de la origini pină în zilele noastre (Oakland, 1984), 249. 23. Iorga, O via Jă, 481. 24. Mircea Eliade, Autobiography, vol. 1, (New York, 1987), 118. 25. Eugen Lovinescu, Scrieri, vol. 2 (Bucureşti, 1970), 27. 26. Gyula Miskolczy, "Nicolas Iorga: Die Madjaren dans Weltgeschichte begr. v. Hans F.

Helmolt," Revue des études hongroises (1923): 91-95. 27. "Sur l'unité de la nation roumaine. Une réponse et une réplique par Nicolae Iorga el Lajos

Treml," Nouvelle Revue de Hongrie (1933): Jan.-May, 468-474. 28. Iorga's letter of March 1, 1933 to József Balogh. Országos Széchényi Könyvtár, Kézirattár

[National Széchényi Library, Manuscript Collection]. Fond. 1. 1584. 29. Alexandre Domanovszky, La méthode historique de M. Nicolas Iorga (À propos d'un compte

rendu) (Budapest, no date). 30. Magyar Tudományos Akadémia Könyvtára, Kézirattár [Library of the Hungarian Academy of

Sciences, Manuscript Collection], Ms. 4531/2. V. 31. Lajos Elekes, "A román történetírás válsága," Századok (1940); László Makkai, "A román

történetírás új iskolája," Századok (1938); and László Makkai, "A román történetírás a két világháború közölt," Hitel (1943).

32. Gáldi, "Iorga," 43. 33. Ibid., 47. 34. Ladislas Gáldi, "Nicolae Iorga," Nouvelle Revue de Hongrie (1941): January, 72. 35. Gheorghe I. Brătianu, "Nicolae Iorga," Revista Fundaţiilor Regale (1941): no. 4, 3. 36. Ibid. 37. William O. Old son, The Historical and Nationalistic Thought of Nicolae Iorga (New York,

1973). 38. Alexandru Zub, De la istoria critică la criticism (Bucureşti, 1985). 39. Emil Niederhauser, "Négy arckép," Történelmi Szemle (1980): no. 4. 40. Maurice Pearton, "Nicolae Iorga as Historian and Politician," in Historians as Nation-

Builders: Central and South-East Europe, ed. Denis Deletant and Harry Hanak (London, 1988), 170.

41. Ambrus Miskolczy, "Nicolae Iorga's Conception of Transylvanian Rumanian History in 1915," in Historians and the History of Transylvania, ed. László Péter (Boulder, 1992), 159-166.

Documents

PARADOXES OF AND ABOUT NICOLAE IORGA: ON THE HISTORY …epa.oszk.hu/01400/01462/00019/pdf/221-251.pdfparadoxes of and about nicolae iorga: on the history of rumanians in transylvania